Why I'm Jealous of Your Messy Bun

There are so many beauty things that are normal to get jealous about. Expertly symmetrical cat-eye liner. Hair that's able to be air-dried. A friend's flawless red lip that somehow never looks dry or smudged. Brows on fleek. Lashes for days. And so on. But if I had to confess the one beauty thing that really ties my stomach in knots with envy, you would probably think it's a little weird. I'm going to write about it anyway, of course, because that's what beauty bloggers do: I'm jealous of your messy bun.

Yes, that bun, the casual, thrown-in one you casually complain about (OMG my hair's a mess; we better not run into anyone we know!). Whether your go-to version is a loosely coiled topknot teetering high (a la Kendall Jenner above), or a slightly drooping off-center pouf in the back, ends falling loose, rest assured someone out there is jealous of your worst hairstyle, and that someone is me.

I'm not, however, envious of your meticulously twisted-and-pinned ballerina bun that required multiple products to smooth to perfection. As much as I adore that look, it's one that I too can achieve. No, I'm specifically jealous of that bun you threw in while we were at the gym, the one you were hardly even conscious of creating. As I'm sure you didn't notice, my hair was in a low ponytail, which is the only zero-effort pulled-back style it's capable of. Tossing it into any sort of bun never ends well, thanks in part to a hairline that resembles the New England coastline on a map. It's always been a little lopsided, plus it features weird tufts of baby hair near my ears that are prone to sticking straight out when I pull my hair straight back or upward (doing so requires having mini bobby pins and a can of strong-hold hairspray at the ready). The hair loss and regrowth associated with three pregnancies in five years certainly has not helped matters, to say the least.

Throwing in a low messy bun would seem to be an option for me, except that it's not, thanks to another challenge: my hair texture. Most people assume I have somewhat thick hair, but the individual hairs are actually very fine. Meaning that when I twist my hair into a bun, it compresses to about 1/4 of its volume. Meaning shrimpy little mini bun. Shrimpy little mini bun that usually sticks straight out from my head, thanks to its length-to-volume ratio. At least I think that's the issue, after way too much time spent pondering the topic.

Although I have never publicly spoken of it before, and I realize it is a fairly stupid thing to expend energy on (both mental and the physical energy required to type this), my inability to wear a messy bun has bothered me for as far back as I can remember. When sitting in school I'd stare longingly at a girl rows in front of me who casually gathered her hair into a chic carefree bundle without requiring any mirror, securing it with a No. 2 pencil. I experienced similar feelings during field hockey while watching teammates effortlessly achieve the same feat, sans pencil, even during bouncy bus rides to away games. Meanwhile there I was with not only my comparatively unsexy low pony but also a stupid stretchy sport headband—for aforementioned baby tufts.

I know there are countless messy-bun and topknot tutorials out there that you think could help me. Trust me when I say I've tried them (even though hair that requires a tutorial is exactly opposite of the point) and there's just nothing that can be done. All I ask is that on the morning after New Year's when you're doing your hungover bagel-sandwich run in a messy bun, you think of me and my same-old sad low ponytail and pause to appreciate the hair you never before realized anyone could envy you for.